The Valley of Silent Men eBook

He stood up. He heard the detachment office door
close, and silence followed. The watch in his
hand seemed ticking off the seconds with frantic noise.
He shoved it into his pocket and stood staring out
into the prison alcove. A few minutes later the
office door opened again. This time it was not
closed. He heard distinctly a few light, hesitating
footsteps, and his heart seemed to stop its beating.
They came to the head of the lighted alcove, and for
perhaps the space of a dozen seconds there was silence
again. Then they advanced.

Another moment, and Kent was staring through the bars
into the glorious eyes of Marette Radisson!

CHAPTER XIII

In that moment Kent did not speak. He made no
sound. He gave no sign of welcome, but stood
in the middle of his cell, staring. If life had
hung upon speech in those few seconds, he would have
died, but everything he would have said, and more,
was in his face. The girl must have seen it.
With her two hands she was gripping at the bars of
the cell and looking through at him. Kent saw
that her face was pale in the lamp glow. In that
pallor her violet eyes were like pools of black.
The hood of her dripping raincoat was thrown partly
back, and against the whiteness of her cheeks her
hair glistened wet, and her long lashes were heavy
with the rain.

Kent, without moving over the narrow space between
them, reached out his hands and found his voice.
“Marette!”

Her hands had tightened about the bars until they
were bloodless. Her lips were parted. She
was breathing quickly, but she did not smile; she
made no response to his greeting, gave no sign even
of recognition. What happened after that was
so sudden and amazing that his heart stopped dead
still. Without warning she stepped back from
the cell and began to scream and then drew away from
him, still facing him and still screaming, as if something
had terrified her.

Kent heard the crash of a chair in the detachment
office, excited voices, and the running of feet.
Marette Radisson had withdrawn to the far corner of
the alcove, and as Carter and Pelly ran toward her,
she stood, a picture of horror, pointing at Kent’s
cell. The two constables rushed past her.
Close behind them followed the special officer detailed
to take Kent to Edmonton.

Kent had not moved. He was like one petrified.
Close up against the bars came the faces of Pelly,
Carter, and the special constable, filled with the
expressions of men who had expected to look in upon
tragedy. And then, behind their backs, Kent saw
the other thing happen. Swift as a flash Marette
Radisson’s hand went in and out of her raincoat,
and at the backs of the three men she was leveling
a revolver! Not only did Kent see that swift change,
but the still swifter change that came into her face.
Her eyes shot to his just once, and they were filled
with a laughing, exultant fire. With one mighty
throb Kent’s heart seemed to leap out through
the bars of his prison, and at the look in his face
and eyes Carter swung suddenly around.